


Cedar Rapids

by orphan_account



Series: Before Fox River 'verse [2]
Category: Prison Break
Genre: Bonding, Brotherly Love, Brothers, Camping, Child Abuse, F/M, Foster Care, Gen, Inappropriate touching, Kid Fic, Memories, Molestation, Pre-Canon, Rape, fraternal love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-11 19:45:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4449842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael opens up to Lincoln about the foster carers who hurt him whilst Lincoln was in Juvenile Detention. A road trip and a camping trip before he starts college become a forum for releasing the past - at least a little bit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cedar Rapids

Michael tossed his hat down behind him onto the backseat of Lincoln's beat-up, old car and ran his hands over his face; hot, sweaty and exhausted, he was desperate for the epic road trip to draw a pause and to spend some time in the quiet with his brother. He exhaled in a sigh and let his head fall back against the rest. He turned his head to peer out of the driver's side window, waiting impatiently for Lincoln to reappear from the gas station. He smirked as he saw Lincoln step out of the store, bottles of water in one hand and car keys in the other. He took determined strides and frowned with perpetual annoyance.

Michael fashioned a smile to his small mouth as Lincoln jimmied the door open awkwardly and slipped into the drivers seat. 

"Everything okay?" Michael asked, relieved by the slight breeze through the open door, and watched Lincoln's face. Lincoln handed him a bottle of water and raised his eyebrows in lieu of a reply. "Yeah Mike," Michael answered himself, "I'm great - looking forward to camping with you this weekend."

"Funny." Lincoln intoned, starting the car. Michael offered a rare chuckle. "So you're all ready for school?" Lincoln asked, drawing the car out of the station and back onto the road. 

"Um huh." Michael nodded, staring at the road ahead. 

"Don't sound too convinced." Lincoln kidded, rolling down his window. He sunk a look at his brother.

"No, I am. I'm looking forward to it." Michael insisted. "It's just going to different." He cracked open his water bottle and took a mouthful. 

"But?" Lincoln finished, anticipating the open-endedness of Michael's remark. 

"Nothing." Michael lied, closing the bottle back up, and reached forward to edge the volume up on the radio. 

Lincoln snapped his hand against Michael's and turned it back down again, immediately soliciting a moan and that from his brother. "Don't do that, don't tune me out. I wanna talk, Mike. Tell me what you meant. Different how?" He quizzed. 

"It's college, it's freedom, it's...y'know, it's not a move to another foster home." Michael admitted quietly. 

"That's a good thing," Lincoln submitted. 

"Yeah, it is." Michael nodded honestly. "But..."

"What?" Lincoln pressed. "Tell me, come on, man."

Michael sighed. "I'm scared, I guess." He admitted carefully. "It feels final."

Lincoln didn't understand - Michael had an out, an opportunity to beat the 'kids in care' odds and be the success story he knew he had the brains and drive to become. Why would it unnerve him so much? "Michael, this is best finality you're going to get. No foster care, no being roped into my shit, it's the chance at a job and a life. You'll meet a girl and get married, and have kids and live in fucking suburbia. Be everything dad wasn't, everything I'm not for LJ."

"You're a good dad, Linc." Michael insisted. 

Lincoln shook his head, "Not good enough." He wet his lips and looked at Michael sideways. "School is going to change everything for you, for the better. There's no reason to be scared of that."

Michael stared ahead and silence drifted between them. There was a fair few miles left on the road, and Lincoln knew that he had the weekend to get through to Michael - he'd stop at nothing to make sure Michael knew he was worth the fresh start.

 

###################

 

Lincoln dragged the handbrake up, halting the car in the early evening sun, just off the road's stretch, in a quietly wooded area on the edge of Cedar Rapids. The sudden loss of monotonous noise and movement roused Michael from his half-sleep, and he groaned and stretched in his seat. "Ready to get the tent up?" Lincoln asked, retrieving the keys. "C'mon, wakey wakey, we need it up before it's too dark."

As Lincoln stepped out of the car, letting the door slam shut, Michael shook his head to right himself and followed in his footsteps. 

The area was secluded and peaceful. Two more tents were visible but they were far enough away that the boys would have privacy. The trees swayed in the light breeze and Michael took a moment to drink in the tranquility. Chicago was a bustling city and offered little in the way of solitude or naturalistic appeal; this was a delicate spot, teetering on the edge of society, just quiet enough to feel far from everything - to feel at peace. 

The tent was up within the hour and Lincoln had lanterns lit and beers opened before darkness began to descend. Cross-legged on the floor outside of the tent, they sat in comfortable silence for a while before Lincoln cut across it in a nonchalant but affectionately intrusive way. 

"I'm proud of you, you know?" He said, without looking at Michael directly. Suddenly the leaves on the fur far ahead were alluring. 

Michael swallowed down his mouthful of warm beer and exhaled a sharp, amused breath through his nose. "Yeah." He said lightly. 

"When Mom died, I thought I'd break it for the both of us, that foster care would take every good bone in our bodies. You've proved me wrong." Lincoln finally flicked his eyes over his brother. "I'm glad." 

Michael smiled softly and quickly amended his comment, "You're not a bad person, Linc." 

"I've been trouble my whole life!" He half-laughed in response and Michael hated it. 

"Trouble doesn't make you bad." Michael pointed out. "Everyone makes mistakes, Linc, everyone; me included."

Lincoln drained his beer bottle and pointed the empty at his brother, "You're as angelic as your eyes have everyone believe!" He teased, but he was serious. Michael was concienciois and careful, analytical and good at choosing the right direction in everything he did. 

Michael smirked, "Lies." 

Lincoln shook his head, easing open another beer. "Every care placement loved you from the outset. Until I fucked it up, they always wanted to keep you." 

"Until they were beating the shit out of us, starving us and handing us back." Michael responded so bluntly, coldly, that it made Lincoln breathe sharply. 

They fell quiet and Lincoln stared at Michael in the low, amber light of the lanterns. "Was it bad when I was in juvie?" 

Michael looked at him for a minute, thinking back. "The first place was, the second was ok. The third...it ended abruptly."

"Did they hurt you?" Lincoln asked, scared to know but desperate to at the same time. 

"Which?" Michael joked, stiffening his body to actual memory and emotion. 

"Michael..." Lincoln scolded. "I'm serious - I want to know. I mean, I know you had a hard time, but nobody ever told me the truth. Please, talk to me."

"About which one?" Michael said seriously, detatched.

Lincoln swallowed hard. "Any of them?"

Michael stared out ahead of him and shrugged his shoulders. "They could be a bit physical." He said quietly. "The mom in one place used to, um, to come say good night after me and the other kid, Lewis, had gone to bed. She would kiss his forehead and tuck his duvet around him, you know how mom used to? Then she'd come to my bed and she would kiss my head and say 'sweet dreams, Mikey, my special little man', and, um, and she'd sit on the side of the bed so her body was blocking out mine if Lewis looked over or if her husband came in. She used to move my duvet at the side and - and put her hand under the covers, and she'd..." 

"Jesus..." Lincoln whispered, anticipating the words to follow. 

"...for four weeks, she touched me every, single night. I was kid, Linc, none of it made any sense to me." Michael finished, teeth gritted. 

Silence fell, thickly parting the brothers. Michael tossed his empty beer bottle down and breathed as evenly as he could. 

"Feel better now?" Michael asked, tone sharp and biting. 

"What?" Lincoln frowned. 

"Now you know? You feel better, feel like my burdens are your burdens and somehow that makes it better - makes it like you were there too, protecting me, making it ok in your Lincoln way." The scathing in Michael's voice cut through Lincoln's heart.

"That's not why I asked." Lincoln said gently. "I just want to know, I want to understand the things that happened when I couldn't help. I'm sorry, Michael. I should have been there." 

Michael snorted. "Yeah, but you weren't. And mom wasn't, and dad wasn't..."

Lincoln wanted to scowl but Michael had every right to feel let down, to feel alone, and he had no right to convince him otherwise. "I know." He whispered after a beat. "I'm sorry." 

Michael nodded into the night, still not looking at his brother. "I know you are, Linc." He sniffed and took a deep breath. "I'm tired." He announced, standing up. "I'm going to sleep." He walked the few steps to the tent and finally looked at his brother. "Sack then trip; let's go home first thing, ok?" 

Looking up at him, Lincoln nodded, "whatever you want, buddy." He complied. "Get settled," he edged his head toward the tent behind him. "I'll be in in a minute." 

Michael unzipped the tent and slipped in without another word. Inside he drew of his jeans and climbed into one of the sleeping bags in his shirt and boxer shorts. He lay on his back, staring into the darkness at the tent's roof. He could hear Lincoln outside, the trees rustling and his own breathing - re-telling old tales had made him feel cold and vulnerable. He breathed a sigh of relief when Lincoln stepped into the tent and zipped the door closed, securing them inside. Michael closed his eyes and listened to Lincoln huffing and shuffling around, opening them again when the air went quiet and still. He looked to his right - Lincoln was laid on his front inside the sleeping bag, looking straight back at him. 

"You really want to leave first thing?" He whispered. 

Michael inhaled and sighed, "I don't know." 

"I know sharing your feelings isn't exactly easy, so it means a lot to me that we talked tonight. I get a few things more, now. I get why you are the way you are with Vee, it makes sense..." Lincoln trailed off. "You're my brother and I love you, and I'll do whatever you need me to do, whatever Michael, you know that. But you've gotta be straight with me. All the time, not just when I force it out of you." 

Michael locked his eyes on his brother and sighed again. "I know. I'll try. ...and I love you, too."


End file.
